


Keyframe

by lunahui



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Swearing, a minor mole appearance, jihoon is bad at feelings, soonyoung tries too hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunahui/pseuds/lunahui
Summary: “Wow, your handwriting is so neat!” Kwon Soonyoung leans over to peer at his paper. He smells like cheap deodorant and burnt coffee.“Thanks.” Jihoon mumbles, with all the bitterness and ‘I want this conversation to end here’ energy he can muster.“Looks like you’re big on taking notes.” Soonyoung flashes him a wide grin. “Guess you can help me out a bit.”Nope.Jihoon glares at his adorable, hamster-cheeked face.I am never speaking to you again.☽october to july of jihoon trying his best not to give a fuck about kwon soonyoung and failing miserably
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, side jeongcheol - Relationship, side meanie - Relationship
Comments: 36
Kudos: 268





	Keyframe

**Author's Note:**

> is my type just pure of heart dumb off ass himbos reduced to shambles by emotional repressed catboys who are secretly terribly in love? … maybe so

####  **October**

☽

_Keyframe_

  1. _n_. a moment that seemed innocuous at the time but ended up marking a diversion into a strange new era of your life—set in motion not by a series of jolting epiphanies but by tiny imperceptible differences between one ordinary day and the next, until entire years of your memory can be compressed into a handful of indelible images—which prevents you from rewinding the past, but allows you to move forward without endless buffering.



☽

Kwon Soonyoung is an idiot.

It takes Jihoon about three seconds to come to this conclusion. That kind of Tumblr blue dyed hair. The ‘Live and Let Vibe’ shirt. The dumb grin on his face as he introduces himself to the professor who’s lecture he’s just interrupted, twenty minutes late on the first day of term.

Focusing his attention back on his notes, Jihoon attempts to smooth his face back into ‘normal’ mode, just like Seungcheol taught him. He tries to manually adjust his eyebrows as he stares down at the tiny neat lettering. The professor huffs once more at the intrusion and continues on with her lecture.

There’s a scraping of chair leg against flooring to Jihoon’s right, and his facial control is instantly lost again. _God, please, no. Not on day one._

“Wow, your handwriting is so neat!” Kwon Soonyoung leans over to peer at his paper. He smells like cheap deodorant and burnt coffee.

“Thanks.” Jihoon mumbles, with all the bitterness and ‘I want this conversation to end here’ energy he can muster.

“Looks like you’re big on taking notes.” Soonyoung flashes him a wide grin. “Guess you can help me out a bit.”

 _Nope_ . Jihoon glares at his adorable, hamster-cheeked face. _I am never speaking to you again._

####  **November**

☽

_Rigor Samsa_

  1. _n_. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time—and will keep growing back again and again, until you develop a more sophisticated emotional structure, held up by a strong and flexible spine, built less like a fortress than a cluster of treehouses.



☽

Of course, Soonyoung is late.

November of his third year is going pretty much as Jihoon expected it. The workload has increased exponentially (which has pleased him and distressed everyone else), Seungcheol has moved on from his second year girlfriend and picked up his current third year boyfriend, a blonde bartender named Jeonghan, and Jihoon is quietly enjoying the new seasonal beverage of his favourite coffee house.

The only external factor is Kwon Soonyoung, who has barreled into Jihoon’s life and refuses to leave like a section of damp mould in his shower. 

It turns out that Soonyoung is taking a class that Jihoon absolutely aced last year, and it would be _sooo amazing_ if Jihoon would tutor him a little, for a price, of course. Jihoon’s thoughts had drifted to the new producing software he was saving up for, and he found himself handing over his number and bank account information before he really had a chance to think about the repercussions: actually having to tutor Kwon Soonyoung.

Sipping his coffee, Jihoon’s eyes make another sweep of the street outside of the cafe’s window. Plenty of students going about their day; not one head of bright blue hair among them.

Jihoon sighs, puts his mug back on the table next to his laptop, and thinks of the payment he made sure he got in advance. 

Pausing from this round of mug collection, Joshua shoots him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually.”

Jihoon huffs, unconvinced. “He’s already paid, only wasting his money.”

“Shame.” Joshua sighs, wiping a hand on his apron. “You’re a great tutor.”

Smiling softly at the earnest compliment, Jihoon takes another sip of coffee, too embarrassed to actually accept it. Joshua just shoots him a knowing eye roll and heads back towards the counter with the empty mugs. 

Jihoon misses tutoring Josh in music theory. He always showed up on time.

Speaking of, Jihoon watches as the coffee shop door violently swings open and a dishevelled looking Kwon Soonyoung, now with bright blonde hair, comes barrelling in.

“Sorry I’m late,” Soonyoung dumps his textbooks onto the table and collapses into the armchair, apparently exhausted, “Seokmin got a mole stuck under his bed and needed help coaxing it out.”

This throws Jihoon for a loop, and he’s startled out of his preplanned sarky comment about timekeeping. “A mole?”

“Yeah, you know those blind dudes who live underground? Eat worms and stuff?” He shrugs his backpack to the floor. It thuds to the ground suspiciously. “Fredrick must have bought it in last night and Seok caught it munching through his Cheeto stash this morning.”

Much to think about. Jihoon squints at the backpack. “Fredrick?”

“Oh yeah,” Soonyoung shrugs like it's obvious, “Minghao’s cat. So, Seokmin’s housemate’s cat. Oh, you don’t know Seok, I forgot. So uh, my best friend's housemate’s cat.”

“Right.” Jihoon frowns.

“So anyways, big mole disaster,” Soonyoung gestures lazily in reference to the mole disaster, “Cheeto dust everywhere, the whole carpet is orange now and I have a mole in my bag.”

Jihoon blinks. “You,” there's a long pause, “you bought the mole.”

Soonyoung shrugs again, only looking a little embarrassed. “Well, the lil’ guy went through about six bags and I wanted to take him to the vet, but we had the first study date and I didn’t want to miss it. So I just kinda put him in a cardboard box with some dirt and ran here.”

Jihoon stares at him. Soonyoung squirms a little in his seat.

“Well,” Jihoon breaks the silence, drops his mug to the table, “study date is over.”

“But!” Soonyoung splutters. “I ran!”

“We’re taking the fucking mole to the vet.”

Luckily, Soonyoung _can_ drive, and they make it to where his car - a shitty half truck that looks at least ten years old - is parked in decent time. Along the way Soonyoung does not stop apoligising, and Jihoon does not stop telling him to shut the fuck up, to the point where he agrees to take double payment for the session just to get the older to be quiet.

When they arrive, a tallish dark haired guy is fretting outside of the house like a maiden in her nightgown, and waves the two of them over. This is Seokmin, Jihoon is informed, and he is apparently overcome with guilt for what happened to the small creature. He hops in the back of Soonyoung’s car as Jihoon slides into the passenger seat, almost bouncing up and down in nervous dread.

“I’ve killed it.” He keeps mumbling. “I’ve killed a mole.”

Soonyoung ignores him with ease. “Seokmin this is my tutor, Jihoon.”

Jihoon gives a pitiful wave as the mole backpack is shoved onto his lap. He can feel something inside rustle.

“Hi.” Seokmin gives a desperate wave back. “I’ve killed a mole.”

“Not yet.” Jihoon unhelpfully supplies.

Soonyoung violently kicks the car into first. “That's the spirit, Jihoon!” 

They tear out onto the road and Jihoon very quickly realises that Soonyoung is not a good driver. He clutches onto the mole backpack for dear life. This is not where he expected Thursday to be going.

####  **December**

☽

_Monachopsis_

  1. _n_. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you’d be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.



☽

Joshua’s house is too hot. This red cup is slightly sticky from use, Jihoon can still taste the remnants of his previous rum and coke, and he unpeels his fingers from the plastic with a grimace. The stupid tight black jeans stick to Jihoon’s legs, and he finds himself begrudgingly releasing another shirt button. Chan raises his eyebrows at the motion.

“It’s too hot.” He grumbles.

“Old man.” Chan teases, grinning at Jihoon’s eye roll. “Want me to go ask Josh to open a window?”

They’re sprawled on one of Joshua’s tiny grandma couches, shoved to the corner of the living room to make space for a small dance area. Both have been completely abandoned by Seuncheol, who ditched them as soon Jeonghan’s blond head was spotted entering the room. Thinking about it, Jihoon’s surprised Chan isn't up in the middle, dancing away with the crowd. Taking a breather, maybe.

Jihoon sighs, takes another sip of his drink. “No. I’m not gonna be that guy.”

“Then shut up about it.” Chan laughs easily.

 _This fuckin’ kid_. Jihoon glares at him. Chan’s not the timid dancer Seungcheol introduced him as just a few months ago. Didn’t take long for the shy exterior to melt away and reveal a brazen little brat who specifically likes poking at Jihoon. The bravery is respectable. But still.

Jihoon kicks him in the shin. “Respect your elders.”

“Ah! Child abuse.”

Jihoon takes another amused sip. “Go cry to your dad.” 

Chan pouts and gestures to the mesh of people in front of them. “Good luck finding him! Probably escaped upstairs to kanoodle with the new boyfriend.”

Jihoon snorts. “Kanoodle?”

“You know what I mean!” Chan flushes hotly under the dim party lights. Still a kid, Jihoon smiles, under all that confidence.

Chan sighs. “Instead I’m stuck with you. Vodka aunt.”

“Rum cousin.” Jihoon corrects, taking another sip. “Why don’t you go dance?”

They both look over the sea of drunk students. Jihoon thinks he sees a glimpse of a very wasted Joshua in the crowd, three whole party hats strapped to his head. 

“Like you said, too hot.”

Jihoon shoots him a genuine smile, which makes Chan turn a new shade of pink, and is about to suggest they both go refill their drinks and maybe save Josh on the way. Before he can even open his mouth, he sees Chan’s eyes go wide with recognition.

“Soonyoung-hyung!”

_Oh no._

Chan is waving and Jihoon flashes his eyes in that direction to try and spot his loud mouthed student.

He’s pretty unmissable, with that brand new vibrant red hair.

“Oh god.” Jihoon says, and Chan shoots him a look.

“You know each other?”

Jihoon just grimaces as Soonyoung finally catches sight of them.

“Channie! Jihoon! Hey!” Soonyoung yells at them over the music, now pushing through the crowd towards them. Over his shoulder, Jihoon spots an excited Seokmin and a confused third friend, pretty and slightly leaner. He assumes this is the housemate with the cat called Fredrick.

Soonyoung dives down onto the couch in the space that was respectfully left between Chan and Jihoon, and attempts to throw an arm over both of them, which Jihoon slaps away. He wrinkles his nose at the sudden smell of cheap beer.

This doesn’t phase Soonyoung in the slightest, leaning heavily on Chan. “I didn’t know you guys were friends?” His other two housemates have disappeared into the crowd.

“He’s my friend's little brother.” Jihoon explains, already tired. “Not biologically. You know that scheme they run for younger students.”

Soonyoung grins in recognition and pinches Chan's cheek. “Ah Channie, already making so many friends!”

“We’re both doing dance.” Chan clarifies for Jihoon after shoving Soonyoung off him, which is really something Jihoon should have guessed already. 

Chan eyes the two of them suspiciously. “And you guys?”

“New friends!” Soonyoung grins right as Jihoon says, “money.”

He glares at Soonyoung, who just shoots him an obnoxious wink, before looking back to a confused Chan. “I’m tutoring him in a module I did last year.”

“That makes sense.” Chan nods, like it's the only explanation that would.

Their conversation is abruptly stopped as a loud crash resonates from the kitchen area. Jihoon can hear a man’s panicked scream alongside a high pitched, tinkling laugh.

“Seokmin!” Soonyoung yells in the general direction of the disaster. “Don’t break anything!”

Chan shoots Jihoon a look. “Should, uh.” He gestures towards the kitchen. Jihoon just shrugs.

“Anyways.” Soonyoung grins at the both of them. “We should dance.”

Disaster ignored, apparently. Jihoon grips his red cup like a lifeline. “I don’t dance.”

“He really doesn’t.” Chan adds quickly.

“Oh come on,” Soonyoung grins sloppily at Jihoon, “everyone can dance.”

“Nope!” Chan chimes in. “Jihoon-hyung doesn’t.”

“I do not.”

Soonyoung pouts, looking more like a drunk manbaby than anyone Jihoon wants to listen to. “Jihoonie.”

Jihoon just glares at the nickname. Alcohol cripples Soonyoung’s judgement, and he tries to throw an arm over Jihoon again. _All right, enough._ Jihoon slaps the arm away and hastily stands, glaring at the confused Soonyoung and anxious Chan. The music pulses around them, morphing itself from some upbeat EDM to a more techno beat.

“I’m going to get a drink.” He declares to the two of them, before taking his half full cup and stomping away.

Over his shoulder, he hears Soonyoung’s huff. “What’s his problem?”

Jihoon glares at no one in particular.

☽

  
  


Apparently, Kwon Soonyoung is some kind of campus celebrity.

“I didn’t know you guys were friends.” Wonwoo, Jihoon’s one friend from the Gaming Society, looks understandably confused.

“We’re not.” Jihoon clarifies. “I tutor him.”

They’re crowded into Joshua’s kitchen, both opting to find sanctuary in the slightly quieter section of the house, away from the violent karaoke battle happening in the living room. One of Chan’s friends, a blond boy with a surprisingly decent ass, is up against the infamous mole-fearing Seokmin, and no one wants to be around for the aftermath of that calamity.

It’s been a while since Jihoon’s seen Wonwoo, who has apparently known Soonyoung since high school.

Like most of Jihoon’s friendships, Wonwoo and him had gradually lost touch, the fault of being too busy to chat and too awkward to try and bridge the gap. Jihoon dropped out of the Gaming Society around exam time last year, and hasn’t really spoken to Wonwoo since. The extent of their friendship now is occasionally trading furniture on Animal Crossing.

They always got on well though. There’s a level of quiet and respect to Wonwoo that Jihoon finds himself liking, an awareness of Jihoon’s need for space. Wonwoo looks good, now, seeming to have found some sort of fashion sense and enough money for a couple of little tattoos. He’s put on a bit of weight, too, filled out in the face and arms. He looks healthier, happier.

Jihoon can’t help but wonder if it's got something to do with the obnoxiously hot tall guy that seems to be stuck to Wonwoo’s side like glue. They haven’t been formally introduced yet, the guy is making a fridge stop as they catch up, but Jihoon can get a general read on his personality from the thigh hugging jeans and the fact he just shut his hand in the fridge door.

“This is Mingyu,” Wonwoo explains as the guy rescues his own hand from the clutches of the fridge, “he’s, uh.”

There's a moment between them, before the guy, Mingyu, recollects himself and flashes Jihoon a brilliant grin. Even his teeth are attractive, where the fuck did Wonwoo find this guy?

“Mingyu,” declares Mingyu, “I study architecture.”

“Right.” Jihoon desperately thinks of a way to steer the conversation away from that conversational wobble.

Wonwoo, thankfully, does it for him. “I didn’t think you’d like someone like _Soonyoung_.” 

They all turn to peer through the door into the living room, where the annoyance in question is leading the chant for Seokmin. The other competing singer is attempting to beat him to death with a pillow.

“He’s definitely not someone I’m used to.”

“Geat guy, though.” Mingyu helpfully chips in. “Really energetic.”

Both Wonwoo and Jihoon shoot him a withering stare, he sheepishly goes back to his drink.

“Not really my type.” Jihoon says, diverting his gaze back over to Soonyoung in the crowd. He’s got his arm over a tall guy in a tie dye shirt, attempting to use his body to block the pillow onslaught, laughing hard.

“You never know.” Wonwoo shrugs, leans slightly back to rest on Mingyu’s chest. “Sometimes people come into your life and something unexpected happens.”

Mingyu looks disgustingly happy at that, staring at Wonwoo like he’s just pulled the sun out of his ass. Jihoon has to look away from the two of them, suddenly a little overwhelmed. They reek of infatuation, despite clearly not knowing where they stand with each other. 

To be so openly invested in someone without knowing if they are going to drop you, Jihoon has to stop himself from shuddering at the idea. 

He quietly sips his drink as Wonwoo goes on to talk about his current writing project, watching as Soonyoung throws his arm around a stranger.

☽

It’s too damn hot. Officially. Jihoon can feel the gross wet patch that's starting to form on the back of his shirt. Not cute.

Wonwoo and Mingyu suspiciously vanished into the crowd a while ago, abandoning Jihoon to simply vibe in the kitchen by himself. Which, honestly, he’s totally chill with. With easy fridge access and a prime spot for drunk people watching, he finds himself actually enjoying the evening.

At least six times, he has to pull his eyes away from that head of vibrant red hair.

Instead, he puts himself on Joshua watch. It’s a fun game. So far Joshua has:

  * Gained five new party hats from various sources
  * Lost three of them
  * Attempted to do the worm at least twice (Jihoon suspects he’s missed a couple)
  * Accidentally knocked a drink out of someone's hand
  * Intentionally knocked a drink out of someone's hand (Seungcheol)
  * Bumped into someone and spent five minutes apologising (also Seungcheol)
  * Had a five dollar bill shoved into his back pocket (Jeonghan)
  * ‘Sexy danced’ (in the loosest sense of the term) in front of everyone to the macarena



Jihoon is currently adding another tally of ‘do the worm’ to the list when he leans back against a cabinet and feels _the patch_. Ah, yes, he’s actually sweating a fuckload. Gross.

List abandoned, Jihoon ditches the kitchen sanctum and pursues his quest for fresh air. Joshua has a shitty little fire escape balcony thing somewhere, he’s sure of it. Shoving his way through the mass of equally sweaty drunk people, Jihoon stumbles into the hallway and almost runs into Vernon, another one of Seungcheol’s ‘kids’. Jihoon clocks him as the tie dye guy he saw earlier.

“Hey! Vernon.” He calls. “Where are you going?”

Vernon blinks in surprise at Jihoon’s sudden presence, seemingly completely unfocused on his surroundings. He thinks for a long moment. “Uh, well I gotta finish up my degree, then probably graduate - ”

“Right now.” Jihoon quickly interrupts.

“Oh.” Relief washes across the younger's face. “The bathroom.”

“Great. Can you show me where the balcony is?”

“Josh has a balcony?”

“Okay.” Jihoon gives up. “Never mind, you head to the bathroom.”

“Thanks.” Vernon smiles gratefully, continuing on his journey. 

Jihoon thinks that kind of a weird thing to be thanked for, but okay. 

Before he can get any further, Vernon shouts over his shoulder, “by the way! Soonyoung-hyung was looking for you!”

Of course, why wouldn’t Vernon know Soonyoung? Who is apparently the most popular person to ever exist?

Jihoon just grimaces and flashes a thumbs up in response, which Vernon happily returns, before heading further down the hallway.

Finally, at the end of the hall, he catches sight of black iron. His oasis. Shoving his way past a dude passed out in a houseplant and an entwined couple that looks suspiciously like Seungcheol and Jeonghan (he purposely avoids looking too close), Jihoon makes a break for it.

The windowsill is blissfully cold under his fingertips, and it's thankfully easy to pry the frame open just a fraction further to slip through.

He’s out. Two feet on thick stainless steel. December air soothes his skin and ruffles his hair, Jihoon feels his cheeks flush at the sudden change in temperature. He sighs, grateful for the crisp air, and closes his eyes for a moment.

“Oh.” A voice from the left catches his attention, and Jihoon’s eyes snap to the trespasser.

Of course, bright red hair greets him.

“You.” Jihoon glares.

“Me.” Soonyoung makes a pitiful attempt at jazzhands. Clearly sobered up enough to be awkward.

“Are you stalking me?” Jihoon holds up the glare, but slumps against the railing overlooking the street below. Despite the intruder, it's still way too hot to head back inside.

Soonyoung laughs. “As if, you’re impossible to find in a crowd.”

“So you _were_ looking for me.”

“Well, yeah. I wanted to say, sorry for earlier.” Soonyoung makes himself comfortable against the railing a respectable distance from Jihoon, closing his eyes for a moment in the night air. “I can get a little touchy sometimes, I forget you don’t like that kind of stuff.”

Jihoon watches him for a moment, wondering where he received _that_ information. “Apology accepted.”

There’s a silent pause, both enjoying the quiet of the night. It’s cold, the December air bites a little at his fingertips, but Jihoon still finds it a welcome break to the heat of Joshua house. 

Soonyoung snickers under his breath, breaking the silence. “Chan’s face was pretty funny though, he looked like he was about to witness a murder.”

“He might have.” Jihoon replies, allowing himself a small smile.

“No way.” Soonyoung flashes him a wide grin. “You wouldn’t cut off a valued income source like that.”

“You’re right.” Jihoon hums. “Pretty sure you’re the one paying my water bill at this point.”

They stand semi awkwardly in the night air. A repressed house beat pulses from the hallway behind him, and Jihoon can’t help but let that weird feeling of encapsulation wash over. The little isolated pocket dimension adjacent to the party. Comforting, but cut off. Accompanied by a sense of melancholy about the potential that drifts under the door with the music, slightly out of reach. 

Soonyoung shifts on his feet a little, creaking the steel below, and Jihoon is reminded of the person standing next to him.

“Hey uh,” Soonyoung says tentatively, “wanna dip?”

Jihoon just blinks at him in confusion.

“Minghao’s vanished and Seokmin is gonna be battling Seungkwan until they both pass out, I need someone to complete the post drinking food ritual with.” He sheepishly grins at Jihoon under the moonlight, obnoxious red hair dancing slightly in the breeze. “Consider it a downpayment for the next session.”

“Presumptuous.” Jihoon smiles back, feeling slightly like he’s signing a contract with a hamster-cheeked devil.

Soonyoung laughs and pushes away from the railing. “Trust me, the fries are worth your time.”

Jihoon just eyes him for a moment. Whether it’s bravery or lunacy, Soonyoung seems to be one of the few people who can challenge Jihoon’s icy stare. 

“They better be good.” 

Soonyoung grins shifts to smug, and he dandily turns to open the window again for Jihoon to climb through, gesturing to it like a servant would for a prince.

“After you, Sir Lee Jihoon of Contemporary Composition for Beginners.” He punctuates the words with a little bow.

Jihoon, despite himself, snickers. “At ease, minion.”

He pushes off the railing and follows Soonyoung, who watches him, delighted.

“You’re an interesting one, Ji.” Soonyoung smiles, earnest, still holding the window frame with one hand. Jihoon feels his pulse jump at the nickname. “You’re gonna be a tough nut to crack.”

“Good luck.”

His grin is brilliant, cheeks unashamedly pulled into a mix of delight and impishness.

“No one can resist Kwon Soonyoung.”

Jihoon just gives him a good natured punch on the shoulder and slips through the window.

  
  


####  **January**

☽

_Adronitis_

  1. _n_. frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house—wishing instead that you could start there and work your way out, exchanging your deepest secrets first, before easing into casualness, until you’ve built up enough mystery over the years to ask them where they’re from, and what they do for a living.



☽

**hochi**

okay this ones for real

if you were a sock what foot would u want to be on

It's been a long evening holed up in the studio, trying to finish a composition for Seungcheol’s next rap piece. There’s something missing amongst the low synth and trap beat, and Jihoon has spent hours staring at his laptop and trying to figure it out. Takeout boxes pile up near the trash can. His phone vibrates again on the desk.

**hochi**

no seriously because most people lead with their left foot u would get worn down way quicker

but maybe u want that??? like isnt ur purpose as a sock to be worn???

**riceball**

im going to murder you

violently

**hochi**

lmao okay

but about the sock thing

Perhaps giving Soonyoung his number was a mistake. Perhaps agreeing to hang out with Soonyoung outside of tutoring time was a mistake. Perhaps this was a mistake.

But, he thinks, staring at the text messages, then he’d be missing out on Soonyoung’s insane opinions on why Gemini’s are actually the best signs, or why that Buzzfeed quiz was wrong and is fursona is actually a tiger, or which foot you would want to be worn on as a sock. 

**riceball**

i hate you sm

id be one of those socks that has holes for the toes so no one would ever wear me

**hochi**

ji thats disgusting

youre a genius

  
  


Despite himself, Jihoon snickers. He takes a moment to turn away from his desk, stretches, checks the time. His phone buzzes again.

  
  


**hochi**

this requires further discussion

what are u doin rn

  
  


His eyes drift over to the laptop screen once more, the unfinished project mocks him silently.

  
  


**riceball**

in the studio

stuck on a composition

**hochi**

great! time for a break

send the address

want me to grab snacks on the way?

  
  


Jihoon pauses, thumbs hovering over the keypad. He scans around the room. His backpack lazily thrown onto the ground, the embarrassing amount of empty McFlurry cartons, a half read manhwa left on the arm of the couch. He involuntarily flushes at the mess. Before he can change his mind, he sends off a Google Maps link to the studio.

  
  


**riceball**

something caffeinated and sweet

**hochi**

on my way ( ´ ▽｀)

i have t h o u g h t s

  
  


Lazily, Jihoon swings himself around on the chair a few more times, the tips of his toes pushing him in a light circular motion as his stare burns into the tiny text emoticon. It seems to encapsulate Soonyoung’s own smile, in a weird way, and Jihoon can almost feel the warmth of it through the screen.

Honestly, Soonyoung scares him a bit. He’s almost _too_ easy to talk to. Jihoon feels like a fluttering, brainless moth, inevitably drawn into the glowing light of Soonyoung's smile. Too bright to be true. Every tentative step closer is like a step towards heart-rushing electrocution. 

When he arrives at the studio, shoving his way inside to escape the brisk cold of the January evening, Soonyoung’s wearing the exact same shirt as Jihoon, and proceeds to take about a million selfies of them together. Jihoon has to fight back his smile in every one.

Later in the evening, once the empty snack packets join the takeout containers in the trash, Jihoon feels the need to clarify some stuff. Since this is, apparently, happening.

“Soonyoung.”

The older has completely melted into the couch in the back of the room, mindlessly scrolling through some social media app on his phone. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet over the last hour or so, letting Jihoon work in peace, occasionally humming along to the melodies as they loop from the speaker system.

Now, he glances Jihoon’s way, fresh purple hair matching the studio lights, a smile preemptively lines his face. “Hm?”

“Uh, you know the whole friendship thing?”

Soonyoung snorts. “I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

“I just wanted to say. Uh. I'm not the most - like, affectionate?” Jihoon cringes at the word. “I’m not good at this.” He gestures between the two of them vaguely.

There’s a moment as he examines Soonyoung’s reaction, the olders face remains a blend of calm and interested, tinted with a dash of confusion.

“That’s okay.” Soonyoung smiles like it's easy, his face illuminated by the bright screen of his phone. Even in the dark of Jihoon’s studio, he shines. “There’s no pressure, we can take it easy, the whole friend thing.”

Jihoon squirms in his seat. “I just wanted to clarify, I think. There might be times where I get, you know, _worse_.”

That falters Soonyoung’s expression a little, he drops his phone to his side. “Well, as long as you let me know, we can talk about it right? It always helps to talk.”

“Yeah.” Jihoon tries to speak honestly, he hopes he’s being truthful. “I’ll try.”

Soonyoung smiles, gently, like he’s scared Jihoon will turn and run. “Well, that’s all I can ask for.”

Jihoon nods. That part, at least, is true.

  
  


####  **February**

☽

_Ecstatic Shock_

  1. _n_. the surge of energy upon catching a glance from someone you like—a thrill that starts in your stomach, arcs up through your lungs and flashes into a spontaneous smile—which scrambles your ungrounded circuits and tempts you to chase that feeling with a kite and a key.



☽

Light music flows through the kitchen, mingles with the ambience of cars passing outside and faint chatter from the street below, crests Jihoon’s shoulders and surrounds him like a blanket. They’re in Soonyoung’s kitchen, Jihoon perched on one of the countertops near the open window, enjoying the faint breeze and the smell of rain in the air as he watches Soonyoung do, well, _whatever_ he’s doing. His fresh, obnoxious, bright orange hair seems somehow uglier under the bright sunlight.

“It's complete.” Soonyoung gestures to the kitchen worktop in front of him like a proud father, bringing Jihoon’s attention back to the moment. “I’ve made it, _chocolate nacho pizza_.”

Jihoon pokes the slumping brown doughy ball with his spoon, horrified and amused. “Soonyoung, this looks like depression.”

“Fucking! Rude!” Soonyoung splutters. “She’s beautiful! And I bet she tastes great too.”

Grimacing, Jihoon watches as Soonyoung potters over to the utensil draw and tries to figure out which tools he needs to take apart his creation. On it’s chipped porcelain plate, the pizza/chocolate/nacho monster sinks into itself as it cools. One of the chips slumps out of its chocolatey glue.

 _Kill me._ Jihoon can almost hear the brown blob hissing at him. _Knock me onto the floor and say it was an accident. He doesn’t have to know._

Jihoon watches it sadly. “I think I need to call the police, or child protective services, or maybe a psychiatrist.”

“Psht,” Soonyoung waves him off, dinner spoon in one hand and cheese knife in the other, “don’t be a coward, you haven’t even tried it yet!”

“I’m not a coward, I’m just not fucking insane.”

“Sounds like something a coward would say.”

Jihoon snatches the spoon from Soonyoung and plunges it into the pizza monstrosity, scoops out a chunk and shoves it in his mouth before he can change his mind.

Soonyoung watches with wild, eager eyes, as Jihoon chews. Flavours of chocolate, blue cheese, tomato and basil mingle like a symphony.

“It’s fucking disgusting.” He says through the mouthful.

“Noooooo.” Soonyoung wails as Jihoon hops off the counter and starts spitting into the bin. “It took me like, three hours!”

Jihoon closes the lid of the bin solemnly. “There goes your MasterChef application.”

“Now what will I serve at the party!?” Soonyoung sinks to his knees in shame. 

“I’m sure Seokmin will manage on crackers and cheese, or some shit.”

“Store bought?” Soonyoung says the words like they’re sacrilegious. “I’m a travesty.”

Jihoon kicks his sprawled form lightly. “Yes, but not because of that,” his eyes flick to the bin, is it smoking? “ _Thing_. You probably would have been arrested if you served whatever it was.”

“Chocolate nacho pizza.” Soonyoung mumbles into the ground.

“Alright.” Jihoon reaches down to hoist him back to his feet. “Get your shit together.”

Soonyoung nods, wipes some fake tears from his cheeks.

Jihoon grabs either side of his stupid face. “You’re a big strong boy who's going to go to the supermarket and buy your friend a cake shaped like a racecar. Okay?”

“That sounds like a cool cake.” Soonyoung mumbles.

“It will be very cool.” Jihoon nods. “And you’ll buy Vernon some candy or something to show you remembered his birthday as well.”

Soonyoungs eyes go wide. “When’s Vernon’s birthday?”

Jihoon can feel the last piece of his sanity slipping away. _Ah, total oblivion of thought, my old friend._

“Just go get the fucking cake.” He sighs, dropping his hands. “I’ll tidy up,” he gestures to what has become of the kitchen, “everything.”

“You’re the best, Ji.” Soonyoung grins, mood suddenly flipped at the idea of not having to clean. 

Jihoon rolls his eyes and moves over to sink, turning on the tap. “What would you do without me.” He drawls.

“Die probably.” He hears over his shoulder.

“Don’t get used to it.” Jihoon calls out as he hears Soonyoung leave in search of his coat. “This is only payback for last month.”

A disbelieving, “sure!”, is the response. Jihoon rolls his eyes and just starts on the dishes.

Soonyoung had done him the surprise favour of finding a dance group to take on some of his songs for choreography pieces. Jihoon had initially cringed at the idea of other people publicly knowing about his existence, but the songs were published under an anonymous handle and the reception was generally… quite good. Surprising.

Either way, Jihoon wasn’t one to owe anyone anything, and kept trying to pay Soonyoung back just so they’d be even. Seokmin and Vernon’s joint birthday surprise was a good opportunity to cash in.

There’s a crash from the living room and Jihoon sighs.

“Your coat is on the back of the front door, moron!” He calls.

“Why is it there?”

 _Why would it be in the one place it's supposed to be?_ “I put it there!”

Soonyoung makes a noise of cute appreciation and Jihoon is so goddamn tempted to throw the plate in his hands in the general direction of the front door, but that would leave Soonyoung with literally one plate left and he’s not about to go shopping for more.

“Thanks Jihoonie!”

Jihoon grips the plate harder. The self restraint is real.

Soonyoung’s teasing voice drifts down the hallway. “Love you babe!”

The door slams shut behind him, and Jihoon is left alone in the apartment. Surrounded by the radio’s soft tune and Soonyoung’s cheap furniture, he sighs into the quiet. The smell of Soonyoung’s laundry detergent and the wilting mint plant on the windowsill blankets Jihoon’s shoulders as he softly smiles, continuing his cleaning.

☽

True to his word, Soonyoung has successfully wormed his way into Jihoon’s life. The tutoring sessions quickly devolved into discussions about art and music, and Soonyoung turns out to be surprisingly driven. There's a level of respect there that Jihoon can’t get around, the fundamental understanding that both him and Soonyoung, and in a similar way, Seungcheol, have this level of want and passion for their craft that few others reach. Perhaps unhealthy, but nevertheless impressive. 

Somewhere along the line, Soonyoung clocks that in him as well, and the late night composing or choreography sessions forge a baseline in their friendship. Jihoon would never admit it, but Soonyoung seems to have worked him out in a way few people ever have.

Over the past few months Jihoon has come to learn these fundamental truths about Kwon Soonyoung:

1\. Soonyoung is nothing if not diligent. He will work as hard as he plays, and approaches every obstacle of life with unflinching confidence married to a sense of optimism that keeps him afloat when he fails.

2\. Soonyoung is unbearably likeable, and perhaps the most charismatic person Jihoon has ever met. Someone who has managed to somewhat melt the icy walls of Lee Jihoon’s exterior in only a few months, without burning themselves in the process. Much to everyone’s - Jihoon included - complete astonishment.

3\. Soonyoung is, purely and unashamedly, good. Without seeming inhuman, egotistical, or unapproachable, Soonyoung’s honest goal is to better the lives of himself and the people around him, regardless of if he knows them personally. Jihoon is pretty sure that if he carved open Soonyoung’s chest, his blood would run blue into the dirt, his heart would be lined with a delicate layer of gold.

4\. Soonyoung is perpetually flying by the seat of his pants. Most of the time, he has no idea what he’s saying or doing.

5\. Jihoon, apparently, still likes him.

It's because of that understanding that Jihoon finds himself being increasingly, uncontrollably, comfortable around Soonyoung. It’s a little jarring, even, that they’ve got so close so quickly. Occasionally, when Soonyoung calls him out on the overworked exhaustion, or when he nails Jihoon’s sense of humor and sends him into a laughing fit, or when he sends him a piece of music that genuinely resonates, Jihoon will catch himself.

A hypnic jerk. The sudden discordant vertigo when you’re right on the edge on the edge of sleep. When comfort is ripped away and your feet are rooted back in awareness. Like a shudder, or windchill, jerking you back to reality.

Jihoon familiarises himself with the context. He is Lee Jihoon. This is Kwon Soonyoung. That won't change.

☽

It’s a Thursday.

They’re out at a park, braving the biting winds of early February. Jihoon wanted to nip into town to grab a present for Chan’s upcoming birthday, and enlisted Soonyoung and his general dance knowledge as a consultant.

A patch of flowers behind the bench they’re sitting on has recently flourished into a vibrant bloom of pink and white, and Soonyoung sees the opportunity for a selfie.

He pushes their cheeks together and says, “come on Ji, smile!”

Pulling him into frame, Soonyoung’s palm finds gentle purchase on the small of Jihoon’s back. Light enough that it takes Jihoon a moment to realise it's even there, faint enough where he could still shift away if he wanted to. But the touch is endearingly careful, and the smallest pressure sends a thrill up Jihoon’s spine. So he stays, leans slightly back into it, ignores the extraordinarily pleased expression on Soonyoung’s face and tries to calm the nervous beating of his heart.

It’s a terrible photo. Both of their faces are half mushed, Soonyoung looks he can barely see, and Jihoon is smiling like it’s his first ever attempt. But Soonyoung shines like the sunrise after a monsoon, and Jihoon ears are rose tipped by their proximity. 

☽

It’s a Sunday.

They go bowling with Wonwoo and another friend, Junhui, who’s beautiful and stupid and lovely as the rest. They order really crappy bowling alley food and way too many obnoxious blue drinks and Jihoon gets super fucking competivite, because apparently Junhui is also a pro bowler. 

It's fun, as the bowling shoes squeak against the smooth wooden lane, and Jihoon’s fingers unstick themselves from his fourth glass. There’s a loud children's birthday party a few lanes down and it's kind of too hot, but Soonyoung rolls his third gutterball and Jihooon laughs hard at his disbelief. Their side is totally losing to the catboys, who both jeer at Soonyoung’s pout.

“It’s rigged!” He calls to no one, stomping over to Jihoon’s side.

“No, you’re just really bad.” Jihoon pokes Soonyoung in the rib as he slumps down on the bench. “Stop throwing it a fucking foot in the air.”

“Power is key.” Soonyoung grumbles, scowling as Junhui lazily rolls another strike. “This is bullshit.”

Wonwoo high fives Junhui as he returns. “He’s right, Hosh, you’re really just terrible.”

“This is actually bullying.” Soonyoung frowns. “Ji, were _losing_ , and you’re _bullying_ me.”

Jihoon stands, allows himself the slightest mourning of loss of heat from Soonyoung’s side, and grabs a ball from the center, finding one small enough to comfortably throw. “It’s true, you’re terrible, but we’re _not_ losing.”

“Fighting words.” Junhui grins from where he’s draped himself over the bench.

Wonwoo goes first, rolls a wobbly three points, whifs his second bowl straight into the gap. From the bench Soonyoung boos and cheers at the appropriate moments, blissfully ignoring Junhui’s complaints about ‘heckling’. Jihoon gives his competitor a good natured smirk and takes a moment to line up his shot. 

He focuses, Soonyoung’s obnoxious yells of encouragement ringing around his ears. The ball leaves his hand in a near perfect underarm swing and curves only slightly across the lane. Eight pins fall.

“YOU CAN DO IT JI!”

“Jesus Christ.” Wonwoo mumbles under his breath.

Jihoon just grins, takes his second shot, clears the last two for a spare.

“YAHAH JIHOOOOON!”

“Fuck yeah!” Jihoon punches the air as the bright shiny ‘SPARE’ lettering flies onto the score screen. “Eat ass Won!”

“Fuck you.” Wonwoo grins back, giving him a good natured punch on the shoulder.

“I rolled a strike like, two minutes ago.”

“Shut up Jun!” Soonyoung shouts. “Jihoon is the best bowler that has ever lived!”

Jihoon can’t manage to control his pleased smile as he heads back to the bench. “Statistically untrue.”

“You can’t disprove it!” Soonyoung counters.

“Guess you’re right.” Jihoon settles back onto the bench. “But that means you owe me fries for carrying the team.”

Soonyoung freezes, mouth open, bamboozled by the sudden turn in logic. Jihoon snickers in glee.

Totally reclined on the opposite bench, Junhui nods at Jihoon in admiration. “Well played.”

“We can take a break and wait for you.” Wonwoo smiles. “Get me a sprite, yeah?”

Soonyoung looks between the three of them in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”

“Go on.” Jihoon gives him a small shove. “Before I win this game for you.”

“Fine! But don’t play without me!” Soonyoung points at each of them in turn, as threatening as he can be, before grabbing his wallet and hurrying in the direction of the bar. Jihoon watches as he shoves his way past a couple of children. 

“Cute.” Junhui snickers, lazily getting up to continue taking his turn.

Once he’s out of earshot, Wonwoo shoots Jihoon a smug smile. “Cute.” He echoes.

“Don’t.”

Wonwoo just shrugs and takes another sip of his drink. Then, blunt as always, “It’s good to see you laugh like that.”

 _It feels good._ Jihoon sheepishly smiles, and Wonwoo returns it, before turning his attention to where Junhui’s just rolled another strike.

As inconspicuous as he can manage, Jihoon chances a glimpse over to the bar area. He snorts at the sight, Soonyoung buying a round of bright orange drinks for the children he accidentally pushed, looking desperately between the two young kids for forgiveness. 

Jihoon smiles. Openly, freely.

Of course, Wonwoo and Junhui (read: Junhui) beat their asses by a significant margin, but the touch of vodka on their dyed blue tongues is enough to loosen Jihoon up a little. He leans into Soonyoung as they over-enthusiastically play doubles air hockey, laughing his ass off as Soonyoung scores three own goals in a row. Eventually Soonyoung throws the puck at Junhui’s cackling face and they get thrown out of the bowling alley. Wonwoo loops an arm through Jihoon’s as they all teeter back to Sooyoung's place, being too loud in the cold evening air, and Jihoon thinks this is probably one of the best nights of his life.

☽

It’s a Tuesday.

Five minutes into Guardians of the Galaxy, Soonyoung falls asleep.

It’s not too surprising. Soonyoung had arrived at Jihoon’s place after a whole day of dance practice, mentally and physically exhausted, chinese takeout in hand. He had _promised_ Jihoon they would watch the film. They had been meaning to watch it for weeks, and Soonyoung swore he would not let his overworked body get the best of him.

The unopened pork chow mein is cooling on the coffee table, and Soonyoung lets out a light snore. Jihoon rolls his eyes and reaches forward to grab the remote. Stupid as he was, Soonyoung had really wanted to see this film, and Jihoon wasn’t going to watch it without him.

He looks so peaceful like this. Sprawled out on Jihoon’s couch. Legs thrown over Jihoon’s.

Slowly, Jihoon reaches tentative fingers over to Soonyoung’s still palm. His fingertips trace the skin of Soonyoung’s wrist, lights and careful, terrified of waking the older. As Jihoon reaches the back of his hand, Soonyoung fidgets slightly, lets out an unattractive yawn and rolls fully onto his back. 

“Stop wriggling.”

Jihoon freezes, and Soonyoung fidgets again, apparently _not_ asleep.

“Ji,” Soonyoung sighs lazily, “just come here.”

It’s too easy, almost. Soonyoung has melted into his couch, eyes still closed, obnoxious orange hair sticking up in ridiculous directions. Sleepily, he throws his arm up, creating space for Jihoon to lie on his chest. It's warm, and so _soft._ Jihoon really can’t help himself. He settles, arms tucked under himself, head placed right over Soonyoung’s heartbeat.

“There you go.” Soonyoung lets his palm flatten against the small of Jihoon’s back.

Jihoon sighs into it, he smells like citrus fabric softener.

It’s quiet for a while. Jihoon lets himself sink into the silence, an unassuming blanket of comfort. Leaving only the soft sound of Soonyoung’s breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of another person’s body heat.

“You ever had a relationship, Ji?” Soonyoung sleepily mumbles from under him. Jihoon tenses in surprise, and Soonyoung laughs a little, running his hand over the younger's back. “Chill, chill, I’m just curious.”

The anxiety still swells in Jihoon’s stomach, he tries to focus on the movements of Soonyoung’s palm up and down his spine. “Why do you ask?”

“Chan showed me your demo for one of his group performances today. ‘ _Adore You’_ , cute name.” Jihoon can feel his neck flush in embarrassment, Soonyoung chuckles lightly. “Your lyrics are always so _pretty_ when you write about love. I was just wondering where the inspiration came from.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, listening to the olders soothing heartbeat.

Soonyoung pokes him in the back after a moment. “So?”

“No.”

“No?” He seems genuinely surprised. “How come?”

Jihoon shugs, embarrassed. “Never really wanted one.”

“You’ve liked people, though?”

His mind flashes to Seungcheol for a brief second. “Yeah,” he admits, “in the past, never for long.” 

“And you never wanted to date them.”

“No.”

Soonyoung doesn’t reply, seemingly waiting for an elaboration.

“What I write about,” Jihoon wriggles a bit in discomfort, and Soonyoung resumes his soothing touches, “It’s like, the perfect stuff, right?”

The other hums, thinking for a moment. “I guess.”

“Well, real relationships aren’t like that. They’re messy, complicated. They end. People fight, break up. People leave each other. Seems like a lot of hassle.”

Soonyoung nods slightly. “So, better to just avoid?”

“I’m too busy anyways.” Jihoon shrugs. “And I’m not romantic, like that. I would be a shit boyfriend.”

“Awh, Ji. You’d be great.”

Jihoon snorts. “Shut up. I’d probably forget I even had a relationship.”

Soonyoung laughs from below him. “Nah, I think you’d be alright.”

“I’m not even like, affectionate.” Jihoon says, and then very quickly realises what position they’re in. The intimacy of him lying on Soonyoung’s chest, the older stroking his hand up his spine, their heartbeats matching tempos. “Normally.” He lamely tacks on.

“Right,” Soonyoung hums, pleased. “Well, you never know until you try.”

“Sure.” Jihoon is too sleepy to fight him on this one. “What about you, anyways.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you, Kwon Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung laughs. “Well, you know me, I’m _too_ affectionate.”

“People want that, though.”

“No, they don’t.” He pokes Jihoon in the back again. “They think they do, and then the honeymoon phase ends, and they realise that I’m like this _all the time_ . And they think, _‘oh shit, this is actually really annoying’_ and I get dumped.”

Jihoon frowns. “That’s mean.”

“Thanks,” Soonyoung laughs again, softer, “but it’s really not their fault. I always run headfirst into relationships, too eager to get to the good shit, kind of skip over the ‘getting to know each other’ phase.”

“No.” Jihoon says. “You’re wrong. I figured out you were an idiot within like, five minutes of knowing you, they could have done the same.”

“That is so mean!” Jihoon can hear the grin in his voice. “Do you really think so poorly of me?”

“Absolutely.” Jihoon rolls his eyes at the olders mock hurt noise. “But I’m still here, aren’t I? You’re more than what you seem, Soonyoung. You’re smart and kind, thoughtful, funny. You only seem full on because you’re completely unafraid of love, and loving someone, and some people get weirded out by that. That's their fault.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Soonyoung’s hand has stopped moving, and is now comfortably resting around Jihoon’s waist. Jihoon tries to process whatever the fuck just came out of his mouth.

“I hate it when you’re nice to me.” Soonyoung sighs, raising his other hand to brush some of Jihoon’s fringe out of his face. 

Jihoon takes a moment. “Too weird?”

“No, it's nice.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Jihoon says quickly. “You only get three compliments a year.”

Soonyoung laughs gently at that. “Wow, better cash them in wisely.” 

Jihoon grins, happy to move onto a lighter topic, trying to push that weird moment out of his mind. “I’m pretty sure you just spent all three.”

“Ji!”

“Shut up.” He reaches out to grab the remote before settling back into Sooyoung's hold, he’s too tired to overthink it. “Lets watch Princess Mononoke.”

Soonyoung easily wraps an arm around his waist. “Again.”

“You cannot complain when you fall asleep five minutes in.”

“I’m a tired boy!”

And of course, within the first ten minutes of the movie, Soonyoung is snoring.

☽

It’s terrifyingly easy to like Soonyoung. They’re almost baseline compatible, somehow, symphonies in the major and minor key playing the same melody. Soonyoung gives so much of himself so freely, putting a little piece of himself into every choreography he makes, every person he meets. It’s completely beyond Jihoon’s understanding.

He wonders if they’re just engineered differently. Soonyoung’s heart blossoms, scatters vibrant petals everywhere he steps. He falls in love every day, blooms into colour, grabs your hands and presses elegant rosebuds into your palms. Jihoon’s heart is a precious gem. Unique and fragile, kept locked away, safe from the harsh touch of someone else's fingerprints.

Every time they speak, Soonyoung leaves him with a fresh bouquet, asks for nothing in return. Jihoon’s so thankful for that, all he has to give is dust and the memory of a key he lost long ago. So this fragile, exciting thing they have goes on, at least for a little while. Eventually winter will come to an end.

It’s a Friday, the last day of the month, and Jihoon feels the warmth of the sun begin to creep over his body.

  
  


####  **March**

☽

_Hanker Sore_

_adj_. finding a person so attractive it actually kinda pisses you off.

☽

It’s a showcase apparently, for one of the University's sponsors. A kind of representation of the University’s finest performing artists, designed to show the investors that their money and facilities are not going to waste. Rumor is, there will even be a couple of talent scouts in the crowd. 

So, obviously, Soonyoung has been working like a madman. 

Pretty much every day over the last couple of weeks Jihoon has received the same text. Some variation of, ‘ _cant hang out, working :(_ ‘, sometimes accompanied with a picture of Soonyoung’s sad looking face obnoxiously close. Or - if Jihoon’s lucky - a mid session thirst trap body pic, weakly disguised as Soonyoung showing off his outfit. Jihoon just sends the thumbs up emoji to those, no idea how hes supposed to reply. 

When they do actually talk, over text or late night phone calls as Soonyoung walks home from the studio, he always sounds exhausted. Always complaining about the time pressure, or the younger students he’s coaching not listening to him, or just about how he misses Jihoon. Soonyoung gets a little delirious when he’s tired, Jihoon has learned.

In a strangely brave move, Jihoon decides to take the initiative, and goes to visit him. It’s late at night, after Jihoon’s finished his own work, but he knows Soonyoung is still up and makes his way over to the dance studio with a hot drink in hand.

Of course, Soonyoung’s mid practice when he arrives. Jihoon can hear the dance music as soon as he steps into the first floor hallway. It’s some sexy, low synth, house track, and Jihoon recognises this as Soonyoung’s solo piece. He cautiously approaches the wooden door of the studio the music is coming from, and takes a little peek through the window to check Soonyoung’s in there.

And oh, Soonyoung’s definitely in there. Wearing an oversized purple graphic tee tucked into some thigh hugging black sweats, Soonyoung is currently running through the chorus part of the song, which is suddenly a million times sexier. Jihoon always knew Soonyoung was a good dancer, but actually seeing him _move_ like this, slow and languid and so in control, it’s kind of mesmerizing. 

His hair is silver now.

Troubling, Jihoon somehow thinks. He’s gotten used to Soonyoung, idiot Soonyoung, cute dumb Soonyoung. This is new. Sensual and dangerous. This is Hoshi, he supposes.

That burning gaze, as Soonyoung watches himself in the mirror, Jihoon can’t tear his eyes away. The lyrics of the song filter under the door like smoke. _Cause you can touch, touch. Only you._

Okay! Jihoon rips himself away from the door. That’s enough of that. He can feel his ears reddening uncontrollably, God dammit. Refusing to give himself the chance of escape, he quickly knocks on the studio door.

He hears the music pause, the sound of footfalls, and then the door swings open. Soonyoung stands in front of him, sweaty and confused.

“Jihoon?”

“Hi.” Jihoon flushes even more under the questioning gaze. “I bought drinks.”

“Okay.” Soonyoung laughs as Jihoon bustles into the studio, following him towards the center of the room where they both take a seat on the hardwood floor. “You mean you bought _a_ drink.”

“Drank mine on the way.” Jihoon lies easily. He’s very aware of Soonyoung’s eyes on him as he makes himself comfortable, shrugs off his coat.

“Just came to hang out?” Soonyoung asks once they’re settled on the floor.

Jihoon slides him the hot chocolate like it's an important document. “It’s good to take breaks, Soonyoung.”

“Ah.” He nods, understanding why Jihoon is really here, and accepts the beverage. “You’re right. But also, I don’t want to, and you are a hypocrite.”

Jihoon laughs gently. “At least I call out my own bullshit when I see it in other people.”

“Ugh, Ji, when did you get so emotional huh?”

“Shut up.” Jihoon shoves him slightly. “I just don’t want you to keel over in here. Your corpse would stink out the studio.”

Soonyoung laughs, leaning back on his palms. “How selfish of me. Guess I’ll go die in a ditch like a respectable member of society.”

“Thank you for your understanding.”

Soonyoung grins at him over the rim of the paper cup, sweaty and irritatingly handsome. “How heartless, Jihoon.”

“Gotta keep up my reputation.” Jihoon flushes and looks away, very aware of Soonyoung’s eyes on him. He curses the inevitable pink of his cheeks.

“Of course,” Soonyoung laughs through sips of his drink, “ice prince Lee Jihoon. If only they knew what a cute mochi ball you actually are, what a scandal.”

Jihoon kicks him slightly. “Pushing your luck, Kwon.”

“Aren’t I always?”

In the back of Jihoon’s mind, a siren trips and he can almost hear Seungcheol’s voice. _‘WEE WOO WEE WOO! THIS IS FLIRTING!!!’_ He elects to ignore it.

There's a quiet moment as Soonyoung finishes his hot chocolate, Jihoon watches him with a pleased smile. It’s good to see him being forced to break.

“Don’t look at me like that, Ji.” Soonyoung laughs after he’s done, crumpling the empty paper cup in his hands. “You look like you actually give a shit, it’s weird.”

“Sorry,” Jihoon pulls his face into an exaggerated glare, “how’s this?”

Laughing, Soonyoung reaches up to push Jihoon’s eyebrows down with his fingers. “No like, this. Even more aggro. Like you’ve just found out I was the one who spilt the barbecue sauce on your studio couch.”

He freezes. “What.”

Soonyoung giggles suspiciously. “It’s just a hypothetical, Ji.”

“I was mad at Seokmin for like three days because of that, Soonyoung!”

“I know.” Soonyoung grins devilishly. “It was hilarious.”

Jihoon explodes into laugher at the fucking _nerve of this kid_ , letting his head fall onto Soonyoung’s gross, sweaty shoulder. His temple pushes into the older’s neck, and he can hear the pulse there, still rapidly beating from the exercise. Soonyoung adjusts his chin to rest on Jihoon’s head, happily throwing an arm around his shoulder and joining in with his own laughter. 

Usually, Jihoon would feel trapped, boxed in by such a gesture. But there's something about the slight feel of Soonyoung’s pulse, or the familiar scent of his fabric softener, that converts claustrophobia into comfort. Jihoon lets himself enjoy being held.

After a moment, he pulls his head back to catch Soonyoung’s content, happy expression.

“You’re such an idiot, Kwon Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung shoots him a smug grin. “Only for you, Ji.”

It's honestly distressing, how unfairly attractive Soonyoung looks right now. He should be a disgusting sweaty mess, and he _is_ , but his silver hair is also pushed back out of his face and his biceps are still taught from use and his expression is so disgustingly confident, pleased. Jihoon hates that he loves it.

Without thinking, Jihoon lets his gaze drop to Soonyoung’s lips, and when he looks back up Soonyoung’s eyes meet his, suddenly burning. Tigers gaze, he gets it now. Jihoon feels the thrill run up his spine. They are suddenly incredibly close, Soonyoung’s arm around Jihoon’s shoulders, holding him in place. Acting on impulse, Jihoon gently reaches out and spreads a hand over Soonyoung’s knee.

“I like your hair this colour.” Jihoon says quietly.

Soonyoung leans closer, eyes dropping to Jihoon’s own lips, and then back up again, as if asking for permission. “Noted.”

Their breaths catch together in a moment of silence.

Ever so slightly, Soonyoung closes the distance, brushing their lips together. And, _oh_ , Soonyoung is _kissing_ him. It’s still startling somehow, and Jihoon gasps a little as Soonyoung’s lips meet his. It’s a brief, experimental press, and Soonyoung watches him carefully as they part.

_Oh._

It’s not enough, suddenly, the distance between them seems oceans wide so Jihoon runs one hand up the side of Soonyoung’s face and hastily brings their mouths back together. Soonyoung makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat, and it sparks lightning in Jihoon’s blood. It’s unfamiliar, terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Caution is thrown to the wind as Jihoon decides he wants _more_ , runs a hand up the olders sweaty chest, swipes his tongue across Soonyoung’s lips. They easily part, and Jihoon can’t help the little moan that spills into Soonyoung’s mouth. Suddenly Soonyoung’s hands are _everywhere_ , and Jihoon shivers as Soonyoung’s palm finds the base of his spine, running gentle circles across his back.

Soonyoung shuffles them slightly, wraps his other hand around Jihoon’s thigh and respositions him to be fully sitting in the olders lap. Being manhandled is now apparently a _thing_ for Jihoon, because he involuntarily gasps into Soonyoung’s mouth and the grip on his thigh tightens.

“Like that, baby?”

Jihoon flinches. 

Whether it's Soonyoung’s warm hands on his body or the word _‘baby’_ leaving his lips in that low tone, Jihoon is suddenly and violently brought back to reality, and freezes. He’s stripped back, naked in Soonyoung’s grasp.

Mimicking, Soonyoung locks in place, removes the pressure of his hands and tilts his head away a little. “Ji?”

“Sorry, I just -” He pushes the hands off him, scrambles to his feet, leaving Soonyoung confused on the studio floor. “I can’t.”

The moment is shattered. 

“That’s okay.” Soonyoung quickly says. “It's totally fine if you - if you’re not comfortable. I’m sorry if I went too far. Fuck, Ji, I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, Jihoon stares down at his feet, his breaths coming in a little shallow. “No, don’t. You’re fine, good. It was _good_.” He admits.

The quiet of the dance studio is suddenly suffocating, overwhelming. Jihoon feels his fight or flight start to kick in, the decades old instinct for the sheep to run from the wolf. Hummingbird heart, the press of lips on his cycles in his mind. Soonyoung stares up at him from the ground, for a long moment, still dazed. 

“Then?”

“I just - can’t.”

For once, Soonyoung seems to be lost for words. Jihoon tastes hot chocolate on his tongue. 

“I just don’t do that.” He supplies. “No offence but, I just don’t.”

Soonyoung offers him a comforting, albeit shaky, smile. “I’m not offended. I’m just a little confused.”

“Like I said.” Jihoon says, somehow keeping his voice stable. “No relationships.”

“Because you don’t want to?” Soonyoung asks, a little too hopeful.

Jihoon can’t stop himself from snapping back. “Because I _can’t_ , Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung nods, accepting, though he’s drawn into himself a little. Jihoon shifts uncomfortably on his feet.

“Okay, well. Noted. Sorry.”

“No it's - it’s probably my fault,” Jihoon says quickly, “I’m shit at this kind of thing. Sorry.”

Soonyoung shrugs. “Hey it's okay, it’s chill, I misread things.”

Jihoon watches him, unsure. His behaviour is a little off, but Jihoon’s so spun out right now that he could just be being paranoid. “Okay… friends?”

“Sure, Ji, friends.” Soonyoung sounds only a little tired. “Now let me show you the bridge section I’ve been working on.”

Dazed, Jihon just nods. Stuck to his spot as Soonyoung starts to go through the choreo again. He explains each section as he does, just something to fill the awkward quiet.

A few weeks later, Jihoon attends that showcase with Wonwoo and Seokmin, and gets to see all of Soonyoung’s hard work come to fruition. The first years group piece he coreographed is innovative and technically impressive, the dancers only fuck it up a little. And, of course, Jihoon gets to fully enjoy his solo piece, Touch. 

It's an experience. Soonyoung up on stage in those tight leather trousers and open black silk shirt and the fucking _choker_ , surrounded by his backup dancers but absolutely owning the stage. Soonyoung calls out for his lover to have their way with him and Jihoon, lost in the dark wash of the unlit crowd, still feels Soonyoung’s eyes locked with his the whole performance. It's like it's just them in the studio again, he feels the phantom burn of a hand gripping his thigh.

Seokmin elbows him after Soonyoung leaves the stage, snapping Jihoon out of the trance. “He’s amazing, right?”

Jihoon just nods, alarmingly helpless.

  
  


####  **April**

☽

_Altschmerz_

  1. _n_. weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years, which leaves them soggy and tasteless and inert, with nothing interesting left to think about, nothing left to do but spit them out and wander off to the backyard, ready to dig up some fresher pain you might have buried long ago.



☽

April, in all her tearful glory, soaks Jihoon and all his friends to the bone. He does love the rain, its beating on his windows is a pleasant reminder that the inside is safe and warm, protected from the wild storms of the outside world. But it's the windchill, the early morning walks to the bus stop, the late journeys back from lectures, the exhausting nature of hard work in spring, that really gets him.

Because April also brings deadlines. Their final year is culminating and everyone is feeling the pressure. Sleepless nights turn into exhausting days, Jihoon finds himself a zombie fuelled by caffeine and a driving spite to finish what he started. It's going okay, unlike his classmates he doesnt feel behind or caught off guard, he knows the hard work is paying off.

But it's tiring. Everyone is tired. What was once easy now seems incredibly hard. Keeping up is hard.

When he does open his messenger app, it's littered with attempts. Check in messages from Seungcheol and Chan. An offer of a coffee date from Joshua. A mention of a movie night from Wonwoo. Repeated ventures of conversation from Soonyoung.

**hochi**

ji you gotta come see seok and kwan perform tonight! hansol is bringing his disco ball ٩(♡ε♡ )۶

**hochi**

check out this picture of hao asleep lmao!!! dont share this he will murder me

**hochi**

hey im around ur studio rn, wanna grab 3am ramen?

**hochi**

yo! just checkin in, still going for coffee on friday?

**hochi**

ji? you alive?

He tries to reply, he really does. The bad habits seep back into his bloodstream, comforting in their familiarity, like the touch of an old, exhausting friend. He works longer, texts back less. The space between messages grows further, a chasm sprung from a faultline, two tectonic plates that have collided and are now pushing apart again. The guilt, the shame, the anxiety shackles his body. Jihoon feels the gap become uncrossable.

Jihoon is late to coffee dates. Misses one of Soonyoung’s dance performances. He accidentally stands Soonyoung up for dinner at their favourite Thai place and the invitations stop coming. 

It's his fault, probably, their relationship was built on this.

He knows this is the beginning of the end for them. Soonyoung is too much, gives too much. Jihoon could never balance that out. And Jihoon knows that normal people with normal relationships don’t act like this. But this is just how Jihoon is, he’s always been this way, he doesn’t know how to change that.

Life without Soonyoung is weird. Jihoon is back into his old routine, and he doesn’t know if it's just the weather, or exam season, but everything seems a little grey.

And then, eventually, as April draws herself to a close:

**hochi**

so, we should probably talk

That one he ignores for a solid four days before buckling under the pressure and texting back a simple agreement. Soonyoung deserves that much.

Jihoon offers a meeting place. By the river on the last day of the month, after he finishes up his studies, late enough so that he doesn’t really have to look at Soonyoung’s face when they talk. Jihoon waits by the bench where they had taken that one photo a couple of months ago, it's still his lockscreen background. He rests on the railing overlooking the river bank and lets himself enjoy the breeze for a while. 

The crunching of gravel path underfoot alerts him to Soonyoungs approach. He’s wearing what seem to be a mix of pajamas and workout clothes with an oversized jacket thrown on top. Deadline season is getting to everyone, apparently. His expression is unreadable under the dim moonlight.

His hair is still the faded silver. Must not have dyed it again yet.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Soonyoung says immediately. So much for easing into it.

Jihoon sighs. “Sorry. I’ve been,” he chooses his words carefully, “off the grid. It happens.”

“Off the grid?” Soonyoung echoes. “Is that why we haven’t spoken in a month?”

“We don’t have to talk all the time, Soonyoung.”

Jihoon doesn’t know why he’s suddenly irritated, he doesn't have any right to be. It just kicks in like a hard shell exterior, an instinctual way of protecting himself.

“Sure.” Soonyoung huffs. “I just want to know why, I guess.”

“There isn’t really a why. It just happens.”

“Because of work?”

Jihoon thinks. “I guess. Other things too. Sometimes I just get tired.”

Soonyoung pauses for a moment. “Tired of me?”

“Of everything, I think.” Jihoon replies honestly.

The night air is cool.

“Right.”

Somewhere behind them in the treeline, a night lark calls out a melody. It’s echoed back from far away, barely audible.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s -” Soonyoung shoves his hands in his pockets. “You warned me, I guess.”

Right, at the beginning. “Yeah. I did.”

“I just, I thought we were getting somewhere, Ji. I know you got a little freaked last month, but I thought we were past - “ he nods his head to Jihoon, to the physical distance between them, “this.”

“Yeah, well. This,” he gestures to the space, to himself. “This is just how I am.”

Soonyoung laughs pitifully. “I just dont think that’s true. I’ve seen emotion in you, it's there, I don’t know why you’re so scared of it.”

“You don’t know me.” Jihoon reflexively snaps.

“Alright.” Soonyoung sighs, heavy with annoyance. “Alright, Jihoon, let's pretend the last, what? Five - no _six months_ just didn’t happen. Right? Since you’re apparently so fucking good at it.”

Suddenly venomous, he spits the words into the gap between them. There's a pause as Jihoon lets them sink into his skin. 

“I thought we would still be friends.” He says quietly.

“Fuck, Ji. We are!” Soonyoung bites back, heated. “Or at least I thought we were, but you just completely withdrew from me. Like you forgot I was supposed to mean something to you. It hurt!” He crosses his arms, recollecting himself. “It sucks to do that to a person, alright?”

Jihoon looks away. “I know.”

He hears Soonyoung huff and kick at the gravel. “It’s like a fuckin’ river sometimes, Jihoon. Like one day its a lazy swim and the next it’s a fucking white water rapid.” 

There's a pause, empty and vacuous. Somewhere far away, Jihoon can hear music.

Soonyoung sighs, long, drawn out. “I’m just trying to get upstream, you know. But any time I make progress you wash me right back into the sea.”

Jihoon can’t look, too scared of what he’ll see. His heart beats like a hummingbird in his chest. 

“I know.” He repeats. “I think this is just how I am.”

Soonyoung shoves his hands in his pockets, throwing Jihoon one last chance. 

“Yeah, well, I thought you’d at least try. You said you’d try.”

Jihoon steels himself, meeting Soonyoung’s gaze. It’s heavy with emotion, hopelessness and guilt and pleading, and God, it tears Jihoon up inside to be looked at like that, and he has to close his eyes to stop the tears from welling up.

“I - I don’t think I know how.” He admits shakily.

He hears a sigh, the sound of car keys being taken out of a pocket.

“Well, let me know when you’ve figured it out.”

Footfalls against gravel; Soonyoung walks away into the night.

Jihoon lets out a stuttered breath, his rapid heartbeat flutters desperately, his hands clench and unclench by his side. But he doesn’t move, feet helplessly frozen to the ground as he watches Soonyoung disappear.

☽

He wallows in lonliness for three whole days before calling Seungcheol.

There's this crappy old 24 hour diner a short walk from Seuncheol’s apartment that they used to hang out at, back when Seungcheol worked the late night shift at the radio station. Seungcheol would basically drag Jihoon away from composing on his mid-shift break to get 3am fries, because he knew it helped Jihoon clear his head. The older would spend his whole hour break chatting about office gossip at the station and Jihoon would nod, clearly not listening, and enjoy the white noise of the diner while his brain took a rest.

Seungcheol works the day shift now, and they haven’t visited in a while, but the stained menus and friendly staff are enough to hit Jihoon with a comforting sense of nostalgia.

“Blue cheese sweet potato fries.” Seungcheol observes the order as soon as it arrives at the table. “You really fucked up huh.”

Jihoon just silently shovels a handful of fries into his mouth, Seungcheol raises his eyebrows and sips his milkshake.

“You wanna tell me?” He asks after watching Jihoon angrily chew for two minutes.

Jihoon finishes his mouthful with a glare. “Somehow. Despite my best efforts. Soonyoung managed to break up with me.”

Seungcheol chokes on his shake for a second. “Fuck - you were together?”

“No. That was the whole fucking point.” Jihoon grabs another handful, greasy cheese sticks to his fingers as he shovels in another mouthful.

Seungcheol watches, concerned. “I’m confused.”

“So a’ I!” Jihoon manages through the potato and cheese, swallowing before he continues. “So am I. This is the whole fucking reason I didn’t want to get in a relationship with him. The prick somehow managed to dump me anyway.”

“So you like him?”

Jihoon angrily dunks a non-cheesy fry into Seungcheol’s milkshake before eating it. Seungcheol pouts, but is wise enough to not intervene.

“We kissed.”

The older gapes. “You _kissed!?_ ”

“A month ago.”

“A MONTH AGO?” A couple of the other patrons turn to look, but Jihoon is beyond giving a fuck and Seungcheol doesn’t even notice. “Jihoonie! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because!” He says hotly. “Because I fucked it up! I freaked out, told him I didn’t want anything like that.”

Seungcheol just takes it in for a moment before raising a finger. Oh, here it comes, the disappointed point, Jihoon’s favourite. 

“Okay well, first,” _point_ , “please don’t think I’m gonna judge you for being weird and emotionally repressed or whatever, you know me better than that.” Jihoon pulls a face. “Secondly,” _point_ , “if you didn’t vibe with it, then you didn’t vibe with it, right? Doesn’t give him the right to blow up at you.”

“It’s not that,” Jihoon sighs, “I told him I liked it, which was,” he flushes unhelpfully, “ _true_. But I said I didn’t do relationships, which he was fine with, so we just agreed to be friends.”

“And then?” Seungcheol waves a stolen fry in the air, gesturing for more information.

Jihoon grabs another handful. “I was myself, I guess. Went into work mode. Shut everyone out. Including him.”

Seungcheol munches thoughtfully. “I see.”

“And of course, that's not great for him. Pissed him off.” Jihoon groans, leans forward to rest his forehead on the table. “Obviously, no normal person would be okay with that.”

“Well,” Seungcheol starts, before sighing, “yeah.”

“So,” Jihoon explains, still face down. “We met up, and he was like ‘ _hey, what the fuck?’_ And I was like ‘ _yeah sorry I’m a fuck up_ ’. And he was like ‘ _well are you gonna stop any time soon?_ ’ And I was like ‘ _probably not_ ’.”

Jihoon sighs into the cold, sticky plastic of the diner table. His breath smells like blue cheese. _So this is rock bottom, huh._

“And then he walked away.”

He can hear Seungcheol drumming his fingers on the table in a rhythmic pattern as he thinks.

“Well, fuck.” Is all he says.

That, at least, makes Jihoon laugh, and he sits back up. “Yeah, fuck.”

They both quietly eat the sweet potato fries for a few minutes, Seungcheol finishes his milkshake. It’s a warm night. One of the nights where you can feel the humidity in the air, threatening rain as it touches your skin. 

“Jihoon.” Seungcheol catches his attention again. “Do you like Soonyoung.”

He doesn’t even ask it as a question, more a statement that needs to be confirmed or denied.

“Yes.” Jihoon nods, sure at least in that.

Seungcheol watches him as if he’s conducting a polygraph test, waiting for Jihoon to lie so he can call him out on whatever horrible crime he’s committed. “And you enjoy being in his company?”

“Yes.”

Seungcheol nods. “He makes you laugh? You feel safe with him? You feel like he listens to you? He interests you?”

Jihoon looks down at his hands, knotting his own fingers together. He says, softly, “yes.”

“So,” Seuncheol says tentatively, “why not date him?”

The million dollar question.

“Because.” Jihoon speaks slowly, trying to control his voice. He’s not going to cry in this fucking diner, covered in blue cheese grease, in front of God and everyone. “Because despite all of that, I am still _Lee Jihoon_. And this past month has proved that. I still shut people out. I would still be a terrible boyfriend.”

“You aren’t your faults, Jihoon.” Seuncheol says solemnly. Jihoon can no longer look anywhere but his hands.

“Doesn’t matter, they’re still a part of me. Soonyoung deserves better.”

Seuncheol sighs and grabs the last fry. “Don’t you think that's his decision?”

“Yeah, well, he’s seen me now. How I am. And he made his fucking choice.”

“Jihoon.” Seuncheol reaches over to cover Jihoon’s hands with one of his own, and Jihoon is almost surprised by how comforting the gesture is. “By the sounds of it, you just had an argument, this doesn’t have to be the end of things. You guys had a great friendship, it’d be a shame to see that go to waste.”

Jihoon slowly nods, that much is true.

Seungcheol smiles and continues. “And, for the record, I know you better than anyone. I think that maybe, you’re a little bit scared? So scared of failure that you won’t actually try?”

“Don’t psychoanalyse me.” He snaps, but it comes out too pathetic to actually sting.

“Jeonghan’s a psych major.” Seungcheol happily shrugs. “I’ve been _reading_.”

Jihoon manages a laugh at that, brief anger instantly fading. “Oh God.”

“I’m serious!” Seuncheol laughs with him, pats Jihoon’s hands once more before leaning back. “Fear of failure is super common in high achievers. Get so used to being successful that anything with a slight risk becomes too anxiety inducing to try. Especially if it's something you’ve never done before.”

Faintly, Jihoon remembers the thrill as Soonyoung kissed him, the rolling high and the crashing low as he pushed away.

“That,” he says slowly, “kind of, make sense.”

“Sure it does!” Seungcheol grins. “It’s brain science.”

Jihoon looks up at him. “Still doesn’t make it easy.”

“Of course not.” Seuncheol’s smile melts into something softer. “No one said love was easy. In fact I think I’ve heard about a million songs saying the opposite.”

There's a moment of quiet, Jihoon gives a faint attempt to return the smile, just to make Seungcheol look a little proud.

“Jihoonie, let me just say,” his voice falls into a warm, serious tone, “you are not impossible to befriend. You are not a horrible leech who makes false promises and sucks the life out of people. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jihoon meets the eyes of his oldest, longest, friend, and finds an honest loyalty that he often forgets to appreciate. It makes his heart do a pathetic little wobble, and Seungcheol just smiles. 

“You’re just a little complex, and that's okay. But people can get confused, and easily hurt, especially when they’ve got their heart on the line.” The older leans forward, like he’s sharing a secret. “No one wants you to change your personality, Jihoon, I’m pretty sure Soonyoung would hate it if you tired. I think what he just needs is some kind of confirmation, from you, to show that you care.”

Jihoon takes a moment to collect himself. “Like what?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “No clue. But whatever it is it might feel a little alien, because it's something you’re not used to. That doesn’t mean you should turn high tail and run. Comfort is all about practice, really. Familiarity.”

The younger nods. “Okay.”

“You just gotta meet him halfway.” Seungcheol smiles. “You want this, he wants this, it's a chance.”

Jihoon bites his lip. “And if I fuck it up?”

“Then you fuck it up! And you learn, and you feel a little more prepared the next time.” Seungcheol grins like it's the easiest thing in the world. “For now, take it easy, just be friends, see how he feels tomorrow. Then, if you want, push a little more. Slowly get used to it, yeah?”

Jihoon nods, Seungcheol reaches out to pat him on the shoulder. “And when you feel yourself going AWOL, _say_. Do something. Me, Josh, Wonwoo, even Chan. There are people who care about you, Jihoon. Might do you some good to take a break from that hustle life, yeah?”

He flushes. _Right, I have friends now._ “Alright.”

“Good.” Seungcheol smiles. “Jihoonie, really, try with Soonyoung. He’s really good for you, and if you change nothing, nothing will change, yeah? You might regret it.”

Jihoon drops his head, nodding in agreement. “I’ll try.”

☽

They next morning Jihoon bites the bullet and asks Soonyoung out for a coffee, mentions something about it being an ‘asshole compensation fee’ at a small attempt at an apology. Soonyoung, of course, agrees, and they meet at his place. It's awkward at first, but Jihoon makes enough self deprecating jokes for Soonyoung to laugh, and assure him that everything is fine. He even offers his own apology, which Jihoon quickly shoots down.

So, they go back to being friends. Just friends.

To Jihoon’s dismay, whatever tension was building before has fizzled out. Soonyoung has wrapped it around his fingers and discarded it into the wind, leaving Jihoon strung out like an overused elastic band, snapped back into place, but distorted and misshapen from use. 

Jihoon thinks about Seungcheol’s final advice. _Sorry, you’re wrong, it's already too late._

They lounge around Soonyoung’s apartment and play Smash Bros all day and it's completely platonic. Soonyoung doesn’t put a hand on his waist, doesn't hand feed him snacks, doesn’t tell embarrassing stories just to get Jihoon to laugh. It’s just fine. 

Jihoon is happy with that. Fine is better than nothing.

  
  


####  **May**

☽

_Pâro_

  1. _n_. the feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—that any attempt to make your way comfortably through the world will only end up crossing some invisible taboo—as if there’s some obvious way forward that everybody else can see but you, each of them leaning back in their chair and calling out helpfully, colder, colder, colder.



☽

Kwon Soonyoung is leaving.

“I’m moving.” Is what he says. “After we graduate.”

 _I’m leaving you_. Is what Jihoon hears.

Soonyoung stares at him blankly over the cup of coffee, waiting for a response. Their notes are strewn over the table between them, tiny neat lettering mingled with scrawling red penmanship. The academic year is almost over. His hair is back to what Jihoon assumes is his natural colour. Stripped of bleach.

“Makes sense.” Jihoon nods. Soonyoung sighs, takes a sip of his drink.

_You weren't enough. You couldn’t give me what I needed. I know that now._

Once they finish studying for the day, he helps Soonyoung look at apartments up North, the cafe lively around them. They find a place that's pet friendly, near to a good dance school that Soonyoung wants to work at. It’s a nice two bedroom, he mentions probably looking for a roommate to split the costs with. 

Jihoon pictures Soonyoung there in the summer, chatting and drinking with friends in the evening, running in and out during the day. He’s smiling, in Jihoons imagination, laughing at something his roommate said. Leaving them little sticky notes on the fridge, reminding them to have a good day, saying that he’s going to pick up milk on the way home from work. A small cat curls happily around his ankles as he works late into the night.

_I’m giving up on you._

Soonyoung elbows him, gently bringing Jihoon back to the bustling coffee shop. “Ji? What do you think?”

_I’m moving on._

Jihoon nods. “I think you’ll be happy there.”

There's a moment of unreadable emotion on Soonyoung’s face, before he smooths it out into a happy smile.

“Great, I’ll apply once we graduate.”

Jihoon has made an Icarus of himself. Melted his own wings and plummeted to familiar earth. Only to lie there, waxy and featherless, finding himself missing the warmth of that fatal sun. 

  
  


####  **June**

☽

_Heartworm_

  1. _n_. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.



☽

Lee Jihoon is in love.

It's obvious really. Its soul crushingly obvious. Inescapably, terribly, inevitably, obvious. Lee Jihoon is in love. It’s the only possible conclusion.

The only possible reason why the sight of moving boxes turns his stomach. Why an empty message thread breaks his heart. Why the taste of hot chocolate wraps itself around his lungs and _squeezes._

The only scientific reason. Jihoon’s done the fucking math. 

It’s funny, he thinks lying on the studio floor at two in the morning. How sometimes you don’t realise the space people have in your life until they carve themselves out with a butterknife and leave. Soonyoung had scooped up Jihoon’s whole heart with the rest of his belongings, thrown into the back of Minghao’s car with the dance DVD’s and tiger plushies, and Jihoon just waved them goodbye.

And now there's a pitiful hole in the center of his chest. A pit that yearns when Jihoon passes his favourite coffee shop or goes bowling with Wonwoo. A great big gaping reminder of how much he loves and how much he lost.

So, Jihoon does what he always does when hes having a crisis: he writes songs.

And oh, they're really bad songs. Chaotic nonsensical melodies that sound like a madman slapping at piano keys. Lyrics that read as confused ramblings, a stoned teenager trying to recite poetry.

_You were a shape I couldn’t draw._

Does that even make sense?

He spends almost five straight days in the studio, working it out. Seungcheol pops his concerned head in a few times to check he’s still alive. Thankfully, he doesn’t try to intervene. 

The older just sighs, drops the takeout on Jihoon’s desk, and says. “At least go home and shower.” Before leaving. 

Jihoon does, sings into his bathroom tiles.

Eventually, the melodies rewrite themselves into a delicate ballad. The lyrics learn to sing the song of a man lost at sea. Jihoon composes himself into the music, and makes something that tells the story of someone who's scared, lost in themselves, but willing to try. And most importantly, someone who's utterly, foolishly, in love.

It’s Jihoons heart, spelled out in chords and time signatures.

He sends it to Seungcheol first. In return, he receives a whole ass novel about how amazing he is and how the song is going to ‘blow Soonyoung’s dick off’. Maybe not the exact response he was looking for, but the multiple encouraging cat memes are enough for the sentiment to work. 

Jihoon spends another hour pacing and freaking out before forcing himself to hit the send button.

A minute ticks by. Jihoon thinks he might throw up.

Another minute.

Ten minutes.

Jihoon puts on some youtube cooking video to give him a reason to tear his eyes away from his phone. He feels like that fucking dog meme as he watches someone flambe some crepes. _This is fine._

His eye catches the phone on the desk every minute or so, and Jihoon feels his breath stop as the little ‘read’ symbol appears under the message.

_Oh fuck oh fuck._

He grabs the phone as the texting bubble appears, the three ellipses taunting him, and then vanishes again after a moment.

_Fuck._

Its a wonder he doesnt bore a fucking hole through his phone screen, how hard he’s staring at it. A minute passes. Nothing.

Fuck, this is the worst possible outcome. A terrible twisting anxiety seizes Jihoon’s stomach, and he has the sudden urge to delete himself from reality and move to the Himalayas. The desperate need to eject from the situation. 

This was a mistake, a horrible stupid mistake. Of course Soonyoung doesn’t care about him anymore. He made that expressly clear when he decided to pack up and move across the country. When he walked away into the night and left Jihoon watching over the flat water of the river.

Who would want someone who can only express themselves in fucking WAV files? Who shies away from physical contact like a wounded animal? Who’ll forget you fucking exist for a month? 

He checks his phone again. Nothing. 

Jihoon turns off the device and throws it in the general direction of the couch. Carefully shuts the lid of his laptop. Kicks himself away from the desk on his chair.

Tears burn at the corner of his eyes as he swivels in place, staring up at the lowly lit ceiling. His purple bulb casts dull shadows against his bookcase, desk, various instruments.

Fuck. Soonyoung is on the other side of the country. Fuck.

Jihoon spends the next ten minutes just swiveling in the chair. Half astral projecting, half trying to erase every memory of Kwon Soonyoung from his mind. Stupid, hilarious, kind, brilliant, Kwon Soonyoung.

There's a frantic knock at the door, assumedly Seungcheol thinking hes died from embarrassment or something, and Jihoon sighs heavily. The knocking continues, and he lethargically pulls himself out of the chair.

Jihoon opens the door, and is met with a heavily panting Kwon Soonyoung.

“Soonyoung?”

The older stands before him, sweaty and wild. “I ran here.” He blurts. “Your song-”

He cuts himself off, but Jihoon can’t fill the silence, all language has been replaced with Soonyoung’s desperate expression. His face is red from exertion, but his eyes are wide and frantic, locked with Jihoon’s.

“Jihoon,” Soonyoung’s tone is pleading, “that song was a love letter.”

“How are you here.” Jihoon barely manages, breathless.

Soonyoung looks almost confused by the question. “Seokmin. I was just grabbing some stuff I forgot and you -”

He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “A love song?”

Jihoon barely collects himself. “It was.”

He takes a step back into the studio, and Soonyoung follows, allowing the door to swing shut behind them.

“You sent it directly to me.” Soonyoung states.

Jihoon can't look away from his face, everything else in the room falls into obscurity, Soonyoung’s open, honest face captures every thought Jihoon has. “I did.”

“Ji, please, don’t play with me.” Soonyoung pleads, grasping Jihoon’s hands with his own.

He looks so helpless, it tears Jihoon in two.

“I’m not, I promise. I’m sorry it took this long to sort my shit out.”

“It’s - I just.” Soonyoung shakes his head. “Am I dreaming? Is this some moving anxiety induced hallucination?”

“No.” Jihoon affirms. Whatever this is, it's very real.

There's a moment of pause as Soonyoung seems to run out of words. Under the slow change of the studio’s light, purple to blue and back again, Jihoon watches Soonyoung’s face, terrified. Studies for any sign of anger, sadness. But Soonyoungs hands are still wrapped around his, gentle, keeping them both grounded in Jihoon’s personal universe. The silence in the room seeps into Jihoon’s mind, and he automatically replaces it with a melody.

“I figured it out.” Jihoon says.

Soonyoung looks from their joined hands to him. “What?”

“You said, down by the river.” Jihoon alters their hands so their fingers can slowly lace together, and he takes a step closer, head almost resting on Sooyoung's chest. “You said to let you know when I figured out how to try.”

“Jihoon I - that was a shitty thing for me to say. I overreacted and lashed out. Please don’t think -”

“No.” Jihoon buts in, rests his forehead over Soonyoung’s heartbeat. “Let me just - just try.”

The quickened pluses of Soonyoungs heart set the baseline for his symphony, and, for the first time in a while, he speaks without thinking.

“Soonyoung, when I’m with you, I live better. I love better, easier. I live life properly, fully, like you do. And when you pulled back, when I _pushed you away_ , I lost that love again. I went back to how I used to be, and I fucking hated it.” 

He bites his lip for a moment, willing his little heart to go on a bit longer so he can get the final words out, no backing down now.

“So what I think I’m trying to say is. I love how I live with you by my side. I love how you make me feel. I love how I am with you.”

Soonyoung’s hand finds the small of Jihoon’s back, and the rest of the words come so easily.

“Soonyoung, I think I just love _you_.”

It’s like Jihoon’s whole body relaxes, all the tension is let go. Everything’s out in the open, exposed and bare. He can feel hot, embarrassed tears dripping over his cheeks and onto the fabric of Soonyoung’s hoodie, overwhelmed.

Soonyoung hiccups out a laugh, he’s crying too.

“Fuck, Ji, you really have no idea what you do to me.”

“Sorry.” Jihoon mumbles.

“Lee Jihoon.” Soonyoung gently cups Jihoon’s cheek, tilts his face slightly so they can meet eyes. He tethers himself like a heretic about to walk into the heart of the storm, baring his soul and putting his faith in the heavens. “Don’t ever apologise for how much _I love you_.”

“Fuck.” Jihoon manages, before finally leaning in and sliding their lips together. Soonyoung hiccups a relieved laugh into his mouth.

It’s a messy, wet, gross kiss. But it's also an admission, a promise, a fundamental understanding. It’s a comfort of, ‘ _hey, its okay, im just as far gone as you are_ ’. And Jihoon can’t help but feel like a _fucking idiot_ because Soonyoung traces his fingers along Jihoon’s jaw and gasps a little against Jihoon’s tongue and they _could have been doing this the whole fucking time_. Jihoon feels the back of his knees hit his own desk and he’s jerked back to reality for a moment.

They both break for air with a gasp, like the pleasures of air somehow contend with the others lips, and Jihoon feels the need to clarify.

“I’m a mess.” Jihoon says as Soonyoung’s mouth lines his jaw. “I struggle to express myself.”

“I’m annoying, pushy, clingy.” Soonyoung mumbles into the skin of his neck.

Jihoon gasps as Soonyoung begins to leave a mark, one hand snakes its way into his hair. “I’m too ambitious, my work always comes first.”

“I get jealous.” Soonyoung morphs his kiss into fluttering presses along Jihoon’s collarbone. “I might get weird about you and Cheol.”

Jihoon grasps Soonyoung’s chin and brings their lips together, as if to prove something. He whispers against the others lips, “I’ll think you like your friends more than me.”

“I’m worried you’ll think I’m too extroverted.” Soonyoung whispers back.

Their eyes meet, wide, scared, but willing.

“I’m not enough.” Jihoon admits.

Soonyoung bumps their noses together. “I’m too much.”

Tentatively, Jihoon leans in and meets Soonyoung in a brief, desperate kiss. A delicate promise, like entwined pinkies under bed sheets.

Jihoon feels the mounting of emotion inside him, raw and ugly and begging to be let free. A fountain that's frozen over in the winter and is starting to thaw out in the spring. It’s terrifying, to be totally and fully out of control, to love absolutely and freely like this. But the champagne is uncorked, and the golden fizz drips over his palms and onto the floor.

Leaning away for a moment, Soonyoung takes the chance to quietly ghost his fingers over Jihoon’s cheekbone. He cups Jihoon’s face, Jihoon can’t stop himself from leaning into it, and just openly admires him. Jihoon doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at like this before.

It’s too late now.

Jihoon braves his hummingbird heart, meets Soonyoung’s gaze. “I want to get better. I’m so tired of it, Soonyoung.” 

The older smiles, watery. Promises, “together. We get better. For ourselves.”

Jihoon nods. “Better people.”

Soonyoung grins dopily. “I can’t wait to be better people with you, Ji.”

It’s too much. Jihoon laughs helplessly, lets himself fall gently into the crook of Soonyoung's neck. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Only for you.” Soonyoung mumbles, and Jihoon can’t help but grin.

Purple light washes across Sooyoung's face, brushstrokes against skin in the soft lilac of Jihoon’s universe. Here he is, standing in Jihoon’s arms, grinning like hes only ever known joy. 

Poet minded, Jihoon can't help but romanticize. With a love that Jihoon only let himself write about, Soonyoung brushes his hand up and down Jihoon’s back, lacing those forgotten wings back together with the heat of his touch. Waxed, feathered, Jihoon pries the dusty, jeweled box of his heart out of his chest and presents it to Soonyoung. A patron declaring an offering to the warm, kind, sun.

And Soonyoung laughs, brushes off the dust, and pushes the box back into Jihoon’s fingers. Cracks lined with a fresh lacquer of brilliant Kintsugi gold.

  
  


####  **July**

☽

_Xeno_

  1. _n_. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.



☽

“See, it’s all about balance. Mastery of the spatula is no easy task, young one.”

Seokmin watches intently as Seungcheol flips the burger up in the air, barely catching it on the spatula again.

“Incredible” Seokmin nods. Seungcheol wobbly slams the burger back down on the grill.

It's a Sunday.

They’re taking a stop at Seokmin and Minghao’s house before heading back North, the last journey for a while. With Seungcheol’s help it had only taken a day or so to pack up Jihoon’s measly belongings, most of which got thrown away despite Soonyoungs instistance that you never know when you might need an old Wii Remote or Star Wars mug from 2009. 

After loading up all the boxes into Seungcheol’s car, they had said one last goodbye to the studio (if Jihoon had let a couple of tears slip looking at his now empty desk, that was no ones business but his), and decided to pay Soonyoungs old friends a quick visit before going. 

Of course, it was all planned, and the door to their little garden is swung open to reveal everyone Jihoon gives a shit about in this world, arguing over a barbeque.

Mingyu, ski goggles strapped to his face, throws his arms up in a cheer at the sight of them, nearly catches Junhui in the face with the spatula as he does. Joshua floats over to sweep Jihoon into a hug, trailed by Chan who gives Jihoon a light punch on the shoulder before breaking into tears. Wonwoo throws an arm over the younger's shoulder, and presses a fresh Animal Crossing amiibo card into Jihoon’s hand as no one is looking.

Of course, Soonyoung’s friends are here too. Seokmin and the blond Jihoon now knows as Seungkwan both envelop him in a watery hug. Minghao is dragged into the mix against his will, and Mingyu jumps on the lot of them just because he can. 

Vernon, the only one still trying to wrangle the smoking barbeque, gives Jihoon a cheery but slightly panicked wave. Jeonghan, who Jihoon has still only met a few times, snakes an arm around Seungcheol’s neck with a proud smile.

It's disgustingly nice. All of them, here, under the fresh summer sun.

They crowd around a shitty plastic table that’s seen better days, half sat on bargain camping chairs and half on the floor, and chat shit for a few hours.

“So anyway, I told him to fuck off and never talk to me again.” Wonwoo finishes.

Mingyu grins and passes his boyfriend a plate. “And that’s when I kissed him.”

Wonwoo makes a face somewhere between annoyance and love as Seungkwan claps.

“You guys are so sweet.” He sighs, dramatically slumping back into his chair.

“It’s almost nauseous.” Minghao adds.

Jihoon throws a piece of lettuce Soonyoung’s way to grab his attention from across the table.

“Hey can you pass the hot sauce?”

“Sure.” Soonyoung chucks the bottle in his vague direction, Jihoon barely catches it out of the air and rolls his eyes in playful exasperation. 

“Thanks, Soonie.”

There’s a dead silence as Jihoon obliterates his burger with hot sauce. Seokmin’s spatula clatters to the ground.

Finally catching the air, Jihoon glances up at the wash of faces around him. “What?”

Seokmin half squeals. “Soonie?”

Delight dancing in his eyes, Soonyoung echoes, “Soonie?”

“That - “ Jihoon focuses back on reassembling the burger, his face flushing uncontrollably, “shut up.”

“Wow, Jihoon is blushing.”

“Holy fuck guys Jihoon-hyung is blushing!”

“Shut up Chan it’s probably just a rash.”

“I don’t have a fucking rash.” He glares around the group. “Shut the fuck up and eat your burgers.”

Seungcheol easily ignores that and leans over to pinch his cheek. 

“Look at you Jihoonie! Pet names and everything! Maybe one day you’ll hold a hand.”

Glaring at the older, Jihoon leans out of pinching range and slams his hand face up on the table. He locks eyes with Soonyoung, determined. He’ll risk it all if it means showing Seungcheol wrong, he’ll hold a damn hand.

Soonyoung grins eagerly and places his hand over Jihoons, wrapping their fingers together. They meet eyes as Seokmin catcalls. 

Here, under the sun, surrounded by the people he loves the most, and Jihoon can’t look away from the gracious expression of love on Soonyoung’s face. He easily returns the smile.

  
☽  
  



End file.
